Monday, June 29, 2009

I was leafing through the only book in the waiting room, a book about the origins of words and phrases. Being a dyed-in-the-wool spanko, I flipped to the chapter on S words, and scanned it quickly.

Aha! I quickly hit pay dirt; an interesting-looking entry:

Spanking. What is the reason love-making is called "spanking"?
It's because kissing can produce a tingle that's not unlike that produced by a static electric "spark".

Spark? What does that have to do with.... I reread the entry again and realized my mistake. It was "sparking", not "spanking". Honestly, I guess the light must've been dim or I was tired and my eyes were playing tricks on me. I swear I saw "spanking".

There was an entry for "whipping boy" too, but I hesitate to mention it here in case it was actually "whiffle tree". I had to drop the book when the receptionist called me in for my eye examination.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

I've been watching my favourite soap - Coronation Street - for kinkiness, and haven't seen anything good lately, so here are a few snippets from a while back that I've been saving until I had a good collection to post. If you missed my first post on Corrie spanking, here it is.

Sean, the gay barman, casually says to Norris, a straight-laced shop assistant "What can I get you, love?"

When Norris objects to being called "love", Sean snaps back, "Well beat me on the bottom with a rolled up [newspaper]!" (I couldn't make out the last word, even though I played the scene three times. Sometimes the accents and vocabulary are beyond me.)

A restaurant owner (formerly a prostitute) is in the corner shop, asking if she can put an advertisement for waiting staff in the window. The bookie from across the street, who happens to overhear her, queries, "Advertising your services in the local shop window?. What is it - French polishing* or touch typing with shorthand?"

*The vanilla meaning of this term is applying a coating of shellac and alcohol to wood to produce a high gloss. However, it also means administering a methodical and thorough spanking with a leather strap, so that the end product is a pair of buttocks that are uniformly and evenly dark red. Nicely finished, as it were.

The same pair of characters later meet in the restaurant. The bookie orders a bottle of champagne and asks the restaurant owner to help him drink it. When she says, "You're a bad influence" he replies cheekily, "Well, if I'm naughty, feel free to punish me."

I can see where this is going! And by the way, a giant wooden fork and spoon hanging on the wall are very conspicuous in this scene.

Speaking of hanging on the wall, the sign on the cab firm's wall reminds everyone:

Wherever there's a belt
Wear it

It refers to seatbelts, but I thought it might be more fun if the sign said "Use it".

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Here's the third set of stick-figure drawings, called "bed positions and restraint." Some of my favourites are here. For those of you who missed the first two posts on positions, you will find them here and here.

I'm throwing out a challenge today. If anyone has actually tried each and every one of the positions on all three posts, please let me know. Leave a comment in this post, or email me at martingale2@yahoo.ca
I'm dying to know if there is anyone has ticked all the boxes.

I went in search of a set of Tinkertoys, and found myself in a toy store for the first time in many years. Did you know you can still buy Sea Monkeys? I also saw Mecanno sets; I had no idea they still made those.

The modern equivalent of Tinkertoys is called Makit Toy. It's similar, but the pieces are much larger.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

I don't usually talk about personal matters here, but since today is Father's Day, I want to share this with you.

A while ago, on an impulse, I typed my father's name into Google. The result was his obituary in a newspaper published in the city where he lived. He had passed away a few days earlier, and the funeral was scheduled for the following Saturday. My name didn't appear in the notice. I signed the online guest book with my maiden name and left my email address.

I'm not telling you this because I want sympathy. You can't miss something you never had. My parents split up shortly after my birth. I have only one short memory clip of my father; I was about two years old at the time. We have had no contact since. So it's not as if I can grieve for him.

I have no idea what it would be like to grow up with two parents. I don't really know first-hand what sort of role fathers play in families. And of course, back then that role would probably have been quite different from what it might be today. I often wonder what our relationship might have been like. Close? Tumultuous? Indifferent? I've been told by relatives that we are alike in many ways. It is never meant as a compliment but I choose to think of it as one. Would I have been a better, stronger, happier person if I had known him? Would I have turned out quite differently? Would my family have been less dysfunctional, more so, or simply dysfunctional in another way?

I have sometimes thought that my penchant for spanking had some of its roots in the desire for a father figure - a male disciplinarian. When I was much younger this was quite a desirable characteristic in any partner I might have considered, and things ultimately worked out that way. Ron is just the right number of years older, even though our life together does not involve any hint of age play or discipline. Although we are equal partners, he does exert his dominance from time to time, and I am comfortable submitting.

Ron assures me that all my good qualities were inherited from my father. It feels good to hear him say that.

Friday, June 19, 2009

As you can see, today is our spanko anniversary. Several readers have asked me how our spanking adventure started, so here's the story.

I had always had an interest in spanking, and can remember saving the Sunday colour comics and enjoying pictures of spankings even before I could read the words. It was very much a part of who I was. So, when I suggested to my first husband that I'd like a little attention back there, I wasn't expecting the reaction I got. My ex was not simply vanilla - even vanilla can be exciting. He was more of a sno-cone without the flavoured syrup. Not only was he uninterested in trying spanking to please me; he was convinced that only a very sick person would enjoy such a thing.

Fast forward several years. Mr. Sno-cone was gone and Ron was a part of my life. He was clearly a butt man, and that was fine with me, because he gave my bottom a lot of very welcome attention. But once bitten, twice shy, so I didn't want to make the same mistake again. I never asked him for a spanking, and I will be eternally grateful to him for making the first move. I'd like to think that he read my mind or interpreted my unspoken signals, but it was more likely his fondness for my bum, coupled with the row of spanking erotica on the top shelf of my bookcase, that gave him the idea. In any case, it happened.

One night we were in bed being intimate. I was on top, and things were progressing quite nicely. All of a sudden, I felt a double smack from Ron's hands as he spanked both cheeks at once. There followed another pair of smacks, then another. I was overwhelmed with a variety of thoughts and emotions. First of all, it hurt! I was startled, surprised, delighted, grateful, and yes, very turned on. The smacks continued and I enjoyed them as best I could - they really hurt - and sooner than I expected, I climaxed, and so did Ron.

Afterward, I murmured, "I've been hoping you would do that." I don't remember what he replied, if anything. We drifted off to sleep then, but awoke in the middle of the night, very aroused. We quickly made love again, then slept till morning.

The next day, the spanking was all I could think of, and that evening I asked Ron if he had been thinking about what we had done the night before.

"I've been trying not to," he admitted sheepishly. We had an early dinner and couldn't wait to expand upon our discovery of the previous evening.

Ever since then, spanking has been a regular part of our lovemaking, and our lives. Disciplinary spankings aren't part of our lifestyle. Ron simply laughs at the idea. I enjoy them far too much to consider them punishment. They are always erotic and we both still have fun during and after them.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Whenever Ron and I have a friendly disagreement over something, he always challenges my opinion by asking me if I "wanna bet? How much?" He'll then decide on the amount of money at stake and put out his hand so we can shake on it.

A little while ago, I disrupted this comfortable arrangement by saying, in response to his question about the amount of the wager, "a spanking" then holding out my hand. The look of dismay on his face was priceless. "But I don't want a spanking" he wailed.

So I explained, "If I win, I get a spanking, and if you win, you spank me."

"Oh, okay. (Pause) Now wait a minute. That doesn't sound right."

Needless to say, all bets were off on that occasion. But the other night we were watching a TV chef reality show and started speculating on who would be the next one to leave Hell's Kitchen. I guessed contestant A, and Ron opted for contestant B.

"Wanna bet?"

"Sure."

Ron quickly established what was at stake; he pointed a finger at me and declared "a spanking", then at himself and said "no spanking", then extended his hand to me. I grinned at him as we shook hands. Unfortunately, his contestant was chosen for elimination.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

While browsing in one of my favourite home furnishings stores, I saw this lovely bamboo spanking paddle spatula. It's beautiful to look at, sturdy, and produces a nice sharp noise when... (Yes, I did try it on my palm when I hope no one was looking!)

I was shopping with an older female relative, and while buying the paddle might not have raised any eyebrows, I might have been questioned about why I needed more utensils for the kitchen. So I decided I wouldn't do it, and told myself the usual. Didn't need it. Had enough implements. Too expensive.

The next day, I was driving past the store, alone this time. Well, I wasn't exactly going past it to begin with, but it wasn't too far out of my way. I had a few minutes to spare, so I pulled into the parking lot, headed inside and wandered over to the kitchen department.

No one had bought the lovely paddle. It was still there. I picked it up, stroked it, hefted it for weight, and checked the price tag. It was smooth, solid, a decent weight, and not very pricey after all.

Lying on the shelf above was a pair of bamboo salad tossing implements. Mmmm, just the right size for.... And the wooden fingers would feel so nice....

At that point, my willpower dissolved and I scooped them up as well, then headed purposefully toward the checkout. The next time Ron suggests salad for lunch, we might have quite an adventure!

Thursday, June 11, 2009

The bed was turned down, the bedside lamps glowed, the pillows were stacked at the foot of the bed, and Ron was waiting. I love watching the look of pleasure appear on his face when he sees me wearing something sexy. I had on a very short, clingy slip - pale pink and grey, with tiny straps and a flounce at the bottom. It barely concealed the pink thong I wore underneath. I shivered, partly in anticipation of what was going to happen to me very soon, and partly because the weather had turned cool, and I was feeling somewhat underdressed for the temperature in the room.

Ron put his arms around me and proceded to explore. When he discovered my bare bottom, he lifted the skirt up so he could caress them it easily. Then he released me and turned to choose an implement, and the fabric stayed up, leaving my cheeks exposed. I couldn't help glancing in the mirror; this was SO hot.

It got hotter. When he turned around with the belt in his hand, my thoughts flashed to my last very exciting belt encounter (thank you, Spanking Blog, for featuring it) and wondered if this one would come close to matching it.

My mind returned to the business at hand as Ron bent me over the end of the bed. He pulled the thong down, but he left the slip in place. He rarely allows me to keep any clothing on during a spanking, and the thought of being partially clothed with my bare bum presented made the scene even more thrilling for me.

Then there was the belt itself. Always exciting. I buried my head in the blanket and squealed when it bit especially hard, but I wasn't too distressed. Ron knows how to space the hard swats with milder ones in between. Then he decided to move to the next stage of enjoyment; putting the belt down, he entered me from behind. As he started to thrust, he also rhythmically spanked my bottom very hard with his hand. OW! Now that did hurt. He couldn't reach my sit spots - for obvious reasons - so he swatted the upper parts of my cheeks, which he could reach just fine. My squeals became louder and more sincere, and I grabbed handfuls of bedding. I was impaled and couldn't get away, even if I wanted to. But I didn't.

When our fun was over and we had both enjoyed ourselves completely, I returned to the mirror once more while Ron dressed. Both cheeks were completely red from top to bottom. My goodness, he really had done a thorough job. I usually see red only on the lower portion. I rubbed gently; the skin was hot to the touch.

When the weather outside is chilly, my lover really knows how to turn up the heat.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Girl outside changing room: "How are those other pants working for you, Jen?"Girl in changing room, frustrated: "I feel like the devil himself crafted them to make a mockery of my ass."

Girl on cellphone: "Did I tell you I sent my dominatrix pilot to my father and he writes back, 'so how did you do the research? It's all very accurate.'"

Male Advisor, speaking about a student: "You know, her lack of concern for this is really biting me in the ass now. I should have been more aware."Female Advisor: "Well, we all should have paid more attention to her work."Male Advisor: You know, that's a good point, because trust me. Your ass is not protected from biting!"

Photographer: "If you don't know someone who will f--- you with an octopus, do you know anyone who would flog you with one?"

Lecturer, about an advertisement: "A hug that lasts all day? What is that, like bondage?"

And finally, what do you suppose the chair was going to be used for?

Coworker: "I like the chair idea, otherwise I'm afraid someone will get hurt."

Monday, June 8, 2009

Bring a century-old healing remedy into your next bath time ritual. Therapeutic properties in mustard include a healing blend of essential oils. Breathe in deep the scent of wintergreen, as chamomile, rosemary and eucalyptus oils gently relieve joint soreness, sleeplessness, and calm a stressed mind by first relaxing the body. Scoop a generous portion into warm bath water.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

The warm weather is finally here! Today I wore shorts for the first time this year, and we have been very busy outside all day. Ron was cleaning out the garden shed and found the flip-flop you see above.

"Does this serve any useful purpose?" he asked as he held it up.

"Well, it's supposed to be a fly swatter," I reminded him. I wasn't brave enough to say what I had really intended it to be used for, so I just mumbled, "I bought it as a joke."

I nodded in reply, turned and started walking towards the house. All of a sudden I heard a loud SMACK as the sandal connected with my right bottomcheek. I turned to Ron and grinned as I hugged him and said, "It took a while, but you finally figured out what its other purpose was."